


Don't Stop Believin'

by DramioneConvert



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Classy Ginny, F/M, Gryffindor/Slytherin Quidditch Game, HP: EWE, Muggle Coffee Shops, Redeemed Draco, Sassy Blaise, Witty Banter, friendship to romance, pushy pansy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 03:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11888775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramioneConvert/pseuds/DramioneConvert
Summary: Years after the war, Draco and Hermione have become good friends. Everyone else in their lives thinks they have the capacity to be something else. Is maintaining the status quo worth what they might be giving up without ever trying?





	Don't Stop Believin'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HermioneJeanWayne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermioneJeanWayne/gifts).



> This fic and its song title were specifically requested by my friend, HermioneJeanWayne! I hope she enjoys it and feels I did it justice. Thanks, as always, for her beta services to polish my writing, as well.

Summer 1999

**Draco**

“Sod it,” Draco said out loud to himself. He was sitting at his desk in his library staring at the fading Dark Mark on his left arm. He had no idea how long he’d been there, contemplating his current predicament. It had only been a month since his parents had gleefully announced his engagement to Astoria Greengrass. A year after the war, and his father was looking to cement the Malfoys’ place in pureblood society again. _Ridiculous_ , Draco thought, with a shake of his head. _Was it really like nothing ever happened? The only thing that saved him from spending the rest of his life in Azkaban was his poor health. As it was, the Ministry stripped him of his wand and confined him to house arrest permanently. That should serve as a constant reminder of how important it is to throw away those ludicrous blood purity notions._

“Well, it won’t continue with me,” he all but growled, letting the spoken words spur him on. “He won’t dictate my life anymore.” With one last look at his forearm, he stood and strode out of the room towards his father’s study.

**Hermione**

“Sod it,” Hermione announced to Crookshanks. She was curled up in her favorite chair in her cozy sitting room. Crookshanks leveled her with a disinterested gaze from his spot in the beam of sunlight on the floor. She’d been staring at the modest diamond ring on her left hand for Merlin knows how long, her worn copy of Hogwarts: A History open on her lap. “Ron and I love each other, but we’re not _in_ love. I can’t spend the rest of my life with someone because it’s comfortable and everyone expects it.” Her half-kneazle familiar meowed his approval, and Hermione stood and apparated on the spot to the Burrow.

Summer 2005

**Draco**

“10 million galleons?! His company isn’t worth half that!” Draco usually prided himself on controlling his emotions like the good Slytherin Prince he was, but he threw the parchment he’d been reading down on the ground and jumped up to pace the room.

“That may be, Dray, but the old man built the company from the ground up. He won’t sell without a fight,” Blaise Zabini, Draco’s chief solicitor at Malfoy Enterprises, replied. Draco shot him a glare out of the corner of his eye. His longtime friend looked totally bored – he was leaned back in his chair examining his nails, completely unimpressed with Draco’s display of frustration. Draco huffed as he paced by him again.

“Quit prancing about like a bloody peacock, and sign my counteroffer,” Blaise said as he waived a much smaller piece of parchment in Draco’s general direction.

Draco snatched the document from his hand and regarded him with a raised eyebrow. “Is that any way to speak to your employer?” But he sat down and signed the page without reading it.

Blaise just rolled his eyes. “Please. You’d have run this company into the ground years ago without me. Hiring me was the best thing you ever did.” He flashed Draco his most charming smile.

Draco tried to hold his grimace, but he couldn’t help the slight upturn at the corner of his mouth. He knew Blaise was right, and Blaise knew Draco knew it. “Get the fuck out of my office,” he drawled.

“As you wish, boss,” Blaise drawled right back and gave a deep bow as he reached the door.

Draco stared out the window of his large corner office overlooking Diagon Alley. The day had been too much for him, and he had to get out. He apparated to the alley behind the Muggle coffee shop that had become his escape in the last few years.

**Hermione**

“Come in!” Hermione yelled sharply from behind the mound of paperwork on her desk. She heard the door open and close. A few seconds pause.

“Oi! Hermione! Are you in here?” she heard Harry call out.

She looked up with a smile but saw only parchment. With a huff, she stood to make eye contact with her best friend. “Over here,” she said with an exasperated sigh. Harry dragged her guest chair around the corner of her desk so he could see her.

“Blimey, Hermione. You look like you’re about to drown in all this rubbish,” he said eyeing the stacks of parchment piled precariously around her.

“I feel like I’m drowning…” she muttered as she plopped back down in her chair. She gathered as much of her unruly hair as she could and wound it into a messy bun secured with her wand.

“What is all this anyway?” Harry asked looking nervously at the tallest and closest pile.

Hermione couldn’t help a chuckle at his suspicious eyeing of the looming paper monster. “It’s the latest report on non-human magical species. Don’t worry – I charmed it to stay upright and in the proper order.” Harry looked back at her like he doubted the spell could hold, and she smiled encouragingly.

He widened his eyes and looked back at her desk. “You’re still working on that when you’re swamped with your real job?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Of course I am, Harry. I still care about their plight as much as I always have. And being buried in complex corporate contracts all day long isn’t what I signed on for. I wanted to make a difference in our world. Not catch inconsistencies in wording for a living.”

“Merlin. Say that three times fast,” he quipped.

“What? Complex corporate contracts? Complex corporate contracts, complex corporate contracts,” she reeled off with a smug smile.

Now, it was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes. She stuck her tongue out at him.

“What’s up with you?” she said, trying to sound as cheerful as possible.

Harry squirmed in his seat a little, and she cocked her head to the side as she regarded him. “Ginny wants me to remind you about coming to the Burrow on Sunday.”

She furrowed her brow in confusion. “I’ll be there. I know I work a lot, but I’ll always carve out time for family. You know that includes you and of course, the Weasleys.” She was again thankful that Ron’s family hadn’t written her off when she broke off their engagement. Even though she was able to un-obliviate her parents and bring them back to England, Harry and the Weasleys were just as much family as her own blood relatives.

Harry nodded, but she could tell there was something else. “What?” she asked becoming slightly concerned. “Well…” he trailed off, looking around the room. _Is he actually avoiding looking at me_ , she thought.

“Harry James Potter. Whatever you came to tell me, spit it out this instant.” She glared at him, and he fiddled with his glasses under her scrutiny.

“Hermione, I don’t want you to get upset.” She crossed her arms. He soldiered on. “The Department of Magical Law Enforcement has reached a decision regarding your request. They are not going to allow the testimonies of house elves as paid Confidential Informants.”

Hermione jumped out of her chair. “Why is the wizarding world so set against paying house elves?! They won’t pay them for their work. They won’t pay them for information. Their masters don’t even treat them as living beings, saying anything in their presence, which is why much could be learned from their testimonies. And it wouldn’t jeopardize their safety because the Ministry wouldn’t even record who the information came from. I submitted that request ages ago. They just now worked up the courage to tell me no?!” She paced angrily around her office.

Harry held his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m just the messenger. I know you’re disappointed. I’m sorry.”

“You’re the head of the Auror department. This has nothing to do with you. Why are you giving me the verdict?” she seethed.

“Actually, everyone else was too afraid to come. They begged me to do it because they knew you wouldn’t hex _my_ bollocks off,” he replied sheepishly.

She stopped and glared at him. “Is that so?” she said, her voice deadly quiet.

Harry squirmed some more in his chair. “Hey, you know Ginny wants to have kids soon. You wouldn’t do that to her, would you?”

Hermione softened a little. “I like how you used her as a defense rather your own personal safety. You always were selfless when it came to your friends.”

He stood up and took her hand. “So are you. I know you want to help other species, and you will. You have. The entire wizarding world is better for your presence in it. Every part of it.”

Hermione smiled at her friend, squeezed his hand. “Thanks, Harry. I have to get out of here for a little while.” He gave her a sympathetic grin and walked her to the closest apparition point. With a quick hug, she was gone.

**Dramione**

Hermione appeared in the alley behind her favorite Muggle coffee shop. She often escaped there to get away from being Hermione Friggin’ Granger every once in a while. She ordered her favorite indulgent drink and found a table on the patio in the sunshine. She was enjoying the feeling of the breeze on her face with her eyes closed to the sunlight when someone caused a shadow to fall on her face. She cracked one eye open and quickly closed it again patting the chair beside her.

“Well, if it isn’t the Gryffindor Princess,” Draco drawled as he took the proffered seat. “Having a lovely afternoon?”

“No, it’s utter shite, if you must know,” she responded bluntly. She heard Draco chuckle. “How about you? The infamous CEO of Malfoy Enterprises having a lovely afternoon?”

“Not in the slightest,” he responded without hesitation. “But I will now.” She opened one eye again to look at him, and he winked. She took in a deep breath and let it out along with all her frustrations. She turned to face him and smiled as she sipped her caramel latte. “You first.” She waved her hand nonchalantly for him to continue.

“Mother is still hounding me about finding a wife so she can have grandchildren, but at least she still wants me to marry for love. Father only cares about lining our proverbial pockets which, between me and you, Granger, are pretty well filled already.” He leaned in to whisper conspiratorially on that last bit, and Hermione scoffed.

“Yes, I think I’ve heard that somewhere along the way,” she responded dryly. “Besides, I get that all the time. Everyone is married except for me – Harry and Ginny, Ron and Pansy, Neville and Luna, blah, blah, blah. They say I’m -”

“Married to my work?” Draco interrupted, and she gave him a fond smile.

“Exactly. My career is important to me.”

“I get the same thing, Granger. Either they want me to successfully run the company or they don’t.” Hermione pointed emphatically and gave a knowing nod. “Of course, work was a giant pain in my arse today, and looking at Blaise’s smug mug was all I could handle so I left.”

“Smug mug. I like it,” she said.

“I’m glad. I so crave your approval,” he returned, and she scowled at him. Then he motioned for her to spill her half of their pity party.

“The DMLE finally got back to me with an answer about my house elf proposal,” she began, but he interrupted again.

“Let me guess – denied?”

“How’d you know?!” she asked with exaggerated faux shock.

“I’m a pretty smart bloke. Which poor bastard did they con into telling you?”

“Harry,” she answered sadly into her coffee mug.

Draco barked a laugh at that. “Potter? Oh, that’s sneaky. Guess they were banking on him being the ‘Boy that Lived’ a third time.”

She simply nodded her head, a sad smile playing at her lips.

Draco let out a sigh and leaned forward. “Look, Granger. I know you’re on a crusade to make life rainbows and sunshine for all creatures, but some things just won’t ever change.” She puffed up to argue with him, but he barreled over her. “And don’t tell me that’s not true. Yes, you’ve accomplished a lot for equality, and we’re better off for it, me included, but this isn’t one of those things. If that proposal had been accepted, life for house elves would have been worse, not better. The benefit of earning money, something they really don’t care about by and large anyway, would be far outweighed by the degradation of their trusted status in wizarding homes. Not to mention what would happen to them if their families went to jail.”

Hermione deflated somewhat. “They’re not trusted. They’re ignored and abused,” she mumbled.

Draco sat back and waited until she met his eyes. “That’s not the majority, and you know it. And the few wizards who do still act that way are being shamed into changing. Just one part of society that you’ve already helped.” Hermione looked into his eyes for a few moments to gauge his sincerity, and then went back to drinking her coffee.

“Don’t stop believin’, Granger. Creating sweeping change is a _Journey_.”

She whipped her head up to look at him, and he gave her his characteristic Malfoy smirk. She gaped at him for a few seconds before giving him a sly smile. “I see what you did there. How do you even know Muggle music anyway?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m a man of many talents and interests, Granger. Surely, you know that by now.” She watched him drinking his coffee. She did know him now. Through her work as Chief Solicitor at the Ministry, their paths had crossed on many occasions. It was awkward at first, but the angry exchanges of their youth had quickly turned into a friendly witty banter when they became reacquainted as adults. Draco Malfoy was quite obviously not the insufferable prat she’d known at Hogwarts.

They had run into each other more frequently through the years and somewhere along the way, had developed a friendship. One fateful day, Hermione had seen Draco at a particularly low point and without much of a thought, dragged him by the elbow to the nearest apparition point out of the Ministry. Like any good Slytherin, he was fairly cold and standoffish at first, but his hard exterior began to melt that day. He stiffened as her arm looped through his, but when they reached what would become “their table,” he began to drop his hardened façade. They had only grown closer since, and now, Hermione truly considered Draco one of her dearest friends. She smiled as she ruminated on their circuitous history. _What would 11-year-old Hermione say if she saw me now_ , she thought.

“Well, I better get back to the Ministry,” she sighed after a few moments of companionable silence. “Don’t want them to think they’ve scared me off.”

Draco snorted. “Ha. You’re a fucking war heroine. They should bloody well know better.”

She smiled down at him as she stood. “Thank you, Draco.”

“Any time, Granger.” He returned her easy smile.

“See you at the Burrow on Sunday?” she asked as she grabbed her bag.

“Wouldn’t miss it. You know how much I love the Weasleys,” he deadpanned.

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, I know. See you then.”

As she walked back to the alley, she thought of Ron and Pansy. They had certainly caused quite a stir when they went public with their relationship a few years previous. About 6 months after Hermione had called off their engagement, Ron had quite literally run into Pansy one day in Diagon Alley, spilling the carton of Chinese food he was scarfing down as he walked all over the front of Pansy’s robes. Between his redheaded temper and her indignant fire, somehow, they managed to turn that explosive reintroduction into a solid relationship.

They kept the budding romance under wraps for a while, but sightings of Gryffindor/Slytherin mixed groups soon drew the attention of the press, and they stepped into the limelight. By that time, the friend groups and former enemies had already made surprising strides at crossing the aisle, and even Pansy’s pureblood family took the news in stride. Technically, the Weasleys were pureblood, too, although they didn’t act like it, but Hermione couldn’t help but think that softened the blow for the Parkinsons.

Obviously, this only made things easier for the integration of Draco and Hermione’s friendship into the fold as well. As the years passed and all their friends continued to pair up and marry off, they found themselves banding together even more. Ginny had taken to referring to them as “Dramione” much to Hermione’s embarrassment. As much as she cared for Draco and valued their friendship, she knew it could never be romantic. Draco’s lean and pointy features of his youth had certainly filled out well in recent years so attraction certainly wasn’t a problem on Hermione’s side, but she just didn’t think Draco could see her in that light. Sure, he’d come a long way from his disgust at her dirty blood, and she’d forgiven him for the transgressions of his youth long ago. She quite respected him now, and she was sure he felt the same. But she was also convinced that his mind was all she stimulated.

She let out an involuntary sigh and disappeared from the alley with a crack.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco returned to his office in a much better mood and made it through most of the stacks of parchment on his desk by the time Blaise returned a little after 5. He didn’t even realize he was whistling to himself as his friend unceremoniously invited himself into Draco’s office and plopped down across from his boss.

“Really, Dray? Whistling while you work? Someone’s attitude has certainly improved since this morning,” Blaise drawled in his typical bored tone, but there was a twinkle in his eyes.

“Piss off, Zabini,” Draco retorted. “Is that better?” He offered a simpering smile before returning to his work.

“A little more in character maybe. To what do I owe the positive change in your demeanor?”

“Clearly, it’s because I got rid of you for a while, isn’t it?” Draco said without looking up from his parchment.

“Ah, but I don’t think that’s the real reason. You met up with Granger, didn’t you?”

Draco stiffened but attempted to remain nonchalant. Blaise’s perceptive stare didn’t miss a thing.

“When are you going to summon the intestinal fortitude to ask her out already? I’m bored of watching you two beat around the bush. And I don’t just mean Granger’s hair, either.” Draco raised his head to scowl at him, and Blaise gave him a saucy wink.

“Ha bloody ha,” Draco said with an enormous eyeroll. “You know she could never think of me that way. After all the things my family and I have done to her, I’m lucky she even speaks to me.”

Blaise scoffed. “You know bloody well that she doesn’t feel that way. You two are always together, and I’ve never seen you happier than when you are nose to nose in a heated debate about some potion ingredient no one else has ever heard of or which classification is appropriate for centaurs or some such rot.” Draco opened his mouth to argue, but Blaise cut him off. “Really, mate. Think about it. I know you have a lot of regrets of things you’ve done. I don’t want you to have regrets about things you didn’t.” With that, Blaise gave him a knowing glare and swept out of the room. “See you at the Burrow,” he called over his shoulder on his way out.

Draco gave up his pretense of trying to work as soon as his meddling friend left and threw his quill down. He turned in his chair again to look out the window as he steepled his fingers under his chin. _Is it really possible that Granger could be receptive to me romantically?_ he thought. He’d only asked himself that a million times, and himself always responded with a resounding no. Why would this time be any different?

*~*~*~*~*~*

As the friend groups had melded, a mostly amicable game of Quidditch had become a regular occurrence, and since Molly Weasley didn’t already have enough people to feed, it usually coincided with the infamous Weasley Sunday Dinner. Hermione usually found herself on a blanket with Pansy listening to the heavy doses of ribbing being handed out by each side. Pansy had a sharp wit about her that Hermione had come to appreciate, and as the only two of their happy band not interested in quidditch, the former rivals had formed a friendship.

Hermione crossed her ankles and leaned back on her hands as she watched Harry, Ron, George, and Ginny zoom across the pitch intermingling with Draco, Blaise, Theo, and Greg. Goyle was still a mountain of a man, and his broomstick didn’t look capable of holding him up much less speeding through the air like the others. What he lacked in haste though, he easily made up in terms of strength. As a beater, he was a force to be reckoned with. Hermione found herself smiling again thinking about how life has a funny way of working out – especially in ways you never could have predicted. After Harry and Ron saved Greg from the fiendfyre in the Room of Requirement, Goyle seemed perfectly content to put aside their past. He even sought them out after the war to apologize for his behavior and thank them.

There was certainly no love lost between Hermione and Crabbe. He’d almost killed her and her friends with the spell that ended up costing his own life. But she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be here, too, if things had gone differently. Not for the first time, her gaze found Draco, and she watched his swift movements and muscular body. He never looked so happy as when he was playing quidditch, and it truly warmed her heart to see the smile lighting up his face.

“When are you two going to wake up and realize you’re perfect for each other?”

Hermione stiffened and turn to glare at Pansy. “Pans, we’ve been over this. It would never work.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Well, of course it won’t if you never buck up that Gryffindor courage and try.”

“Why aren’t you giving him this pep talk?” Hermione shot back.

Pansy scoffed. “Believe me. I have,” she said sourly.

Hermione gaped at her. “Pansy! What did he say?!”

“That you’re not interested in him like that. That it would never work. Basically, the same lies you give. Isn’t that interesting?” Pansy gave her a pointed look.

Hermione felt her cheeks burning and turned to look back at the informal match, raising her chin in defiance. “Well, then you have your answer. The only one who thinks it’s worth a shot is you.”

“Yeah, me and Ron and Harry and Ginny and the whole Weasley Clan and Neville and Luna and Headmistress McGonagall…”

“Okay, I get it!” Hermione cut her off. She could tell Pansy would have listed everyone they’d ever met if she’d let the witch continue. “You’re all conspiring against us.”

Pansy suddenly grabbed her by the wrist – not roughly but her eyes were definitely imploring – Hermione was captured in her sights. “No, we’re all conspiring _for_ you. We know you two are too stubborn to get there on your own. Don’t miss out on maybe the best thing that could happen to you just because you’re scared to change the status quo.”

Hermione felt like the intensity of Pansy’s stare was boring a hole into her. “I’m not scared,” she practically whispered, and even she didn’t believe it when her ears heard it. Pansy gave her a doubting look, and Hermione was collecting herself for a better response when someone plopped down beside her.

“Merlin’s beard, Pansy. You look like my mother when I try to get into the sweets for one of her parties. What are you two witches on about anyway?” Draco seemed playful, but Hermione noticed a sharpness about his eyes and expected he sensed her unease.

Pansy had known Draco most of her life so she didn’t miss the subtle warning either. “Oh, nothing, Dray. Just some girl talk.” She gave a completely fake smile and stood to brush herself off. “I’ll leave you two to talk amongst yourselves.” She sauntered off to find Ron. _Purebloods_ , Hermione thought as she watched her go.

“Hermione, are you alright?” Draco leaned in and whispered so close it scared her. She whipped her head around, and they actually bumped noses. Draco winced and closed his eyes. Hermione gasped and covered her face with her hands. “Really smooth,” she heard Draco say.

She peeked between her fingers at him. He was grinning at her. “I’m so sorry,” she moaned.

He reached out and pulled her hands away from her face. She quickly grasped his hands and looked down at them, feeling a blush creeping up her neck. She tentatively explored the plains and curves of his hands with her fingers. “What are we doing, Draco?” she asked without looking up. _So much for Gryffindor courage_.

“We’re sitting on a ratty blanket in an overgrown field right now,” he drawled, and she looked up to glare at him.

“You know what I mean.” She looked straight into his gray eyes imploring him to understand.

He clenched his jaw. “Pansy was harassing you about us again, wasn’t she?” he said quietly. Hermione nodded and laid her hands flat on Draco’s, palm to palm. “Blaise gave me a similar speech this week, too.” Hermione’s eyes widened. “Don’t let them push you into anything. The nature of our relationship is none of their business. Sod them.” She looked down at their hands again and went back to her exploratory ministrations.

“What if they’re not the only ones who wonder if we could be something other than friends?” she whispered. He pulled his hands back, and her fingers immediately felt cold. Her stomach clinched, and she felt her eyes start to burn. But then he slid both of his hands under her jaws until his long fingers tangled in her hair. He raised her chin to look at him.

His gaze was piercing and searched her face intently. “Hermione… Are you saying you might be interested in more than friendship? With me?” The blood was pounding so loudly in her ears, she could barely hear him. She nodded dumbly. For one immeasurable moment, he continued to stare into her eyes, and then she began to see a twinkle there. One corner of his mouth tugged up, and he brushed her lips with his thumb as he leaned in. His warm, soft lips found hers, and she never could have expected his kiss to be so sweet.

She responded slowly at first, but the kiss grew in intensity. Soon, she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him closer. Their bodies were pressed against each other, and she was hanging on for dear life. It had been a long time since she’d kissed a man, and it had never felt like this before. She pulled away, breathless, and buried her head in his neck. He ran his hands down her back and rubbed her arms. She could not get enough of his touch and would have sat there forever. She even forgot about the Weasleys. But one should never, ever forget about the Weasleys.

“Oi! Dramione! Quit sucking face, and get in here. Mum’s ready to put dinner on the table.” Ginny’s clear voice barked all the way from the house.

Hermione couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her throat and raised her head to look at Draco. He rolled his eyes. “Such class, that one,” he drawled.

Hermione smacked his arm playfully. “Hey, that’s my friend you’re talking about.” She tried to glare at him, but he leaned in quickly and captured her lips. She forgot what she was supposed to be upset about. He pulled away too soon, and dazedly, Hermione decided any amount of time would be too soon. She was afraid of what would happen though if the Weasleys had to wait on them to eat. She didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Ginny’s infamous Bat Bogey Hex. She left a lingering kiss on his cheek, and they got to their feet. He offered her his elbow with a grand exaggeration of a bow, and she giggled again. Sweet Mother of Merlin, she had it bad already, giggling like a schoolgirl.

“So now what?” she asked airily as they made their way to the garden in the back of the house where everyone would be sitting down to eat.

“Well, I think the ship has sailed for making some big announcement about our new status.”

“What status is that exactly?” she asked smiling up at him. He continued to look straight ahead.

“The kind where we eat as fast as we can and get the hell out of here so I can go back to snogging the socks off of you. And we’ll see what else comes off after that.” He looked down and waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Draco!” Hermione gasped and smacked his arm again.

He made a show of looking hurt. “Such violence, Granger. You wound me.” She cocked an eyebrow.

When they walked around the side of the house arm in arm, the considerable crowd gathered erupted in cheers of “Finally!” They took the last two seats and were almost beaten to death by all the pats on the back they received.

Hermione leaned over and whispered right into Draco’s ear, making sure to graze its shell with her lips. “I’m not actually wearing any socks…”

He stilled at her words, and then turned back to tuck into his dinner with a ferocity that threw all his pureblood manners out the proverbial window.

*~*~*~*~*~* FINITE*~*~*~*~*~*


End file.
